


sort-of chips

by wave_of_sorrow



Series: holographic ghosts and really great years [1]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s04e18 The End of Time (2), Gen, Timey-Wimey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 14:29:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wave_of_sorrow/pseuds/wave_of_sorrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which it is New Year's Eve (sort of), and Rose Tyler wears a rainbow coloured scarf. [or; the one where Rose tells Nine about meeting Ten.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	sort-of chips

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this mini-series way back in October and only just found it again on my computer. This is the slightly tweaked and semi-polished result.

It’s the morning of New Year’s Eve, or at least the local and temporal equivalent thereof, and they’re on a planet whose name Rose can’t pronounce.

“You could’ve told me you weren’t joking about the warm snow,” she complains with a delighted laugh, and spins around with her rainbow coloured scarf spread between her outstretched arms like a banner.

The Doctor shrugs, and watches her try to catch snowflakes on her tongue. “I thought you might like it.”

“Like it?” Rose asks, and comes to a staggering halt in front of him with ice that won’t melt in her hair. “I love it!”

Her grin is giddy and infectious, and he mirrors it with one of his own.

“You know what’s funny?” she asks later, after they’ve gotten bored with sightseeing and she’s hit him in the side of the head with a snowball that wasn’t cold and only followed it with one straight to the face when he tried to glare at her, and they’re sitting in a sort-of café drinking sort-of mulled wine.

“What’s that?” he says, and she reaches over to brush away the snow gathered on the tops of his ears. She bites her tongue and pinches them, and he pretends he’s genuinely hurt just to make her laugh again.

“Last New Year’s Eve,” Rose says quietly, and prods the ice cubes in her glass with one finger, “back on Earth, I met this bloke.” She looks up to find him pulling a face and rolls her eyes. “Not like that. He just told me I’d have a really great year, that’s all.” He frowns, and she smiles too brightly and says, “Anyway, I’m starving. Do you reckon they’ve got chips here?”

They do but not proper ones, and the Doctor always wondered why in all the universe there’s only one tiny country on one small planet that makes decent chips.

They eat the sort-of chips and drink more sort-of mulled wine, and after that Rose makes him join her in catching the sort-of snow on their tongues. When they’ve made it back to the TARDIS and he’s unlocking the door, he says, “You didn’t say if it was.” Rose frowns, and he clarifies, “A really great year, I mean.”

She smiles, and warm snow gathers on her bare shoulders and the scarf she’s loosely draped around them as premature fireworks light up the darkening sky, and she says, “Yeah, it was.”


End file.
